


nothing ever becomes real, till it is experienced

by nefertiti



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Meetings, Fluff and Crack, Friendship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:32:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nefertiti/pseuds/nefertiti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“She’s here.” Marius blurted out<br/>“Here?”<br/>“Yes. I love her so, and would give her anything she wished. And to hear her ask for something as simple as to meet my friends, well, it seemed such an easy request to fulfill."</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing ever becomes real, till it is experienced

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a fluff/crack fest, and it's how I imagine Cosette's introduction (*sobs*) to les amis would work out.

Enjolras barely glances up when he heard the door to the backroom of the musain opening.

“Your Buonapartist friend is here Courfeyrac.”

Courfeyrac sighed exasperatedly at Enjolras, smiling fondly all the while. “You know, as well as I, that we managed to turn poor Marius from his sadly misinformed ways.”

Courfeyrac glanced towards the door, and sure enough Marius stood by the door shuffling his feet. He looked intently at Combeferre, which was what he always did when he wanted answers, who seemed just as engrossed in looking through his books as Enjolras was with his maps and Feuilly with his checklist. It made sense, as they were planning an uprising after all. There’s no time for anything less than dedication.

Enjolras spared just enough time for a shrug before returning to his maps.  “It _is_ strange that he is here in any case.” Courfeyrac acknowledged as Marius dawdled nervously by the door.

Courfeyrac gave him a few minutes before going over to greet him; mainly because he was intrigued by the awkward glances he kept sending Enjolras’ way.

“My friend,” he took Marius aside to the table nearest the door, and furthest away from everyone else. “There is no need for you to appear so tense. You are amongst friends here.”

Marius gave him a brief smile before reverting to that melancholy, anxious gaze he seemed so fond of. “I am not as forthcoming towards you as I should be recently, especially given that I am boarding with you. So perhaps this is presumptuous of me to even assume, but...”

“I have been ever so affectionate of your ability to turn one word into twenty since we’ve met, but perhaps it would be easier for you to speak plain.”

“I have a love...”

“Yes, your dear Ursule.” Courfeyrac nodded.  At Marius’s bemused expression Courfeyrac snorted. “My dear Marius, you clutch that godforsaken handkerchief every night (Which you really should wash. For God’s sake Marius!) whilst murmuring her name, do you think me daft?”

“I...no?”

“I would find out about her sometime.” Courfeyrac’s eyes twinkled as he watched Marius try to gather his thoughts. “It’s not wise to hide such secrets from a friend whose bed is inches away from yours. A friend who has questioned you about said love only to receive a tight lipped answer, a friend who wishes to sleep soundly at night; perhaps without hearing mumblings about long chestnut hair cascading like a river down her back and lips that remind you of spring as they look soft and warm. Why you could give our Jehan a run for his money.”

“She’s here.” Marius blurted out, growing more mortified with each of Courfeyrac’s words.

“Here?”

“Yes...I.” Marius looked lost for words. “She’s... she’s very hard to refuse you see. I love her so, and would give her anything she wished. And to hear her ask for something as simple as to meet my friends, well, it seemed such an easy request to fulfil. I know Enjolras doesn’t allow the fairer sex entrance back here, but do you think you can beg him an exception, her father’s away for the week and her maid, Toussaint, has gone to the market for a few hours, Cosette (that’s her name by the way, I thought it to be Ursule but I was mistaken, Isn’t Cosette a much prettier name in any case?) ,says she gets carried away talking to the vendors as they don’t mind her speech impediment and don’t make her uncomfortable about it, so today is perhaps the only day I could bring her to meet you, obviously I would have preferred if we could have all gone to the theatre, or to dinner or something simpler, although what’s more simple than a cafe full of friendly faces...”

Jehan, who had wandered over, probably drawn to the tormented soul, gently said “Be easy comrade.”  as he sat next to Courfeyrac.

Courfeyrac placed his hand on Marius’s shoulder to stop the onslaught of increasingly frantic rambling. “All this time you’re speaking, your mistress is waiting.”

“My mistress! Courfeyrac be serious. Cosette is more than that, she’s my world.” Jehan smiled encouragingly.

“Dear Pontmercy, Enjolras only made that rule because the likes of Grantaire, Bossuet, Bahorel and your friend here,” he nodded at Courfeyrac, who smiled intrepidly “would spend their time harassing any pretty face that dare enter here.”

Courfeyrac’s ‘I don’t harass you, Jehan, my pretty.’ was ignored in favour of Jehan’s, “Poor Louison is at her wits end with us all.”

 

 

 

 

 

“However we would never try to woo a lady of our friend,” Courfeyrac spared a brief glance at Bossuet and added. “without their permission of course.”   

“The only thing would be getting Enjolras to go along with it.” Jehan considered. “Joly knows of your love, and by now I’m sure he’s told L’Aigle, who would have told Bahorel, who would have relayed this news to Grantaire and I’m certain that Courfeyrac has already told Combeferre which means that Enjolras surely knows.”

“Prouvaire, my precious friend, perhaps you should explain you musings to our Marius here. He looks absolutely baffled.”

“Oh Marius,” Jehan sighed “You walk about the streets of Paris as though you’re in a daze, dressed in your best clothes, sighing dreamily all the while. Was this really meant to be a secret? For it was a poorly kept one.”

“Joly!” Courfeyrac called him over, causing a few heads to turn his way. “Would you spare us a moment?”

Joly glanced up from his corner where he was having a fast paced conversation with Bossuet, Bahorel and Grantaire. He slowly approached the fevered group, with Bossuet and Bahorel trailing behind him. He sat beside Courfeyrac cautiously, his expression growing alarmed when Marius groaned and rested his head on the table.

“What is wrong with him?” Joly asked, more concerned than anything. “Is this why you’ve called me here?  I hope whatever this is isn’t contagious. I would check him out here, but I might need his chest to be bare, oh dear. Come now Marius, unfasten your cravat.”

Courfeyrac let him ramble on mainly out of amusement, while Jehan did it because he was unsure of how to get him to stop. He instead looked imploringly at Bossuet, who had settled beside Joly, to intervene.

Bossuet looked as amused as Courfeyrac but he still took Joly’s hand in his own until he quieted. “Maybe we should let them say what’s wrong my dear Jolllly.” Joly looked on curiously but Marius head remained firmly in his hands. Bahorel, who has taken his seat next to Marius, boxed his ear. Marius yelped and sat up turning a glare on Bahorel, who grinned back unrepentantly.

“Nothing is wrong with me,” Marius muttered, rubbing his ear, his glare was fixed on the table in front of him as it would be madness or suicide to even attempt to challenge the burly boxer sitting next to him. The only one foolish or drunk enough to ever try that was Grantaire, and that was because he was almost at the same level as Bahorel when it came to fighting skills. “except for the fact that I might be deaf in my left ear.”

“Marius has his mistress (SHE’S NOT MY MISTRESS COURFEYRAC) waiting outside and he’s scared of Enjolras, so he doesn’t know how to ask him to let her in.” Courfeyrac supplied, growing impatient with their dallying.

“Bring her in then.” Bahorel took a swig of his brandy and slammed it onto the table. “I know so much of this fair maiden, except her name and her face, I almost thought you were in love with your imagination.”

“Aren’t we all?” Jehan asked.

“Of course we are dear Prouvaire,” Bahorel replied “But our imagination is a poor replacement for the touch of a woman. Does your imagination keep your bed warm at night?”

Jehan glanced at Courfeyrac, who quirked his brow as though expecting a response. He then turned to Joly and Bossuet who seemed bored at the turn in conversation, and sighed.

“We are not here to talk about who warms my bed or my heart. We need to give Marius here a dose of courage. His nerves grow weak in the face of our fearless chief.”

                                                                                                                                          

And now dear reader, time calls for an interlude. You perchance remember that there was another man amongst these friends who goes by the name capital R, or Grantaire. He sat amidst friends nursing his wine and occasionally chipping in with a word or two when the time called for it. When Joly went to see to Courfeyrac, and his friends followed, he sat there, watching this group with fond amusement. Did they not realize how loudly they spoke? Did they not know how Enjolras had glared at them once and was soothed by Combeferre, who had already talked Enjolras into letting the lady in, in a way only Combeferre could? Did they really not understand how slight the conversation they’d been having has turned into?

 Well Grantaire had been listening to their _incredibly loud_ conversation; really would it have hurt them to lower their voices and decided to surreptitiously sneak out the backroom to look for young _Cosette was it?_ in the cafe. And really, it was no chore. She stuck out like a sore thumb, sitting alone at a table. Dressed in what was obviously her most modest frock, yet it was elaborate, and beautiful. She stood out among the grisettes who were decently dressed, yet their sleeves were stained and on the verge of tearing. She looked around nervously and Grantaire was torn between amusement and pity. He really just came out here to catch a glimpse of her, but alcohol hadn’t quite damaged the vision of this pretty lady.  He dropped on a chair opposite her and smiled.

“Mademoiselle,” He kept his grin small as not to scare the already spooked girl. “Forgive me, but I am a friend of your Marius, and I have come here to bid you welcome. It might seem strange, perhaps, that Marius didn’t come to do so himself, but you see your beloved is of the craven species, and he’s unsure as how to go about introducing you to our leader. Ah. I see you’re offended by my statement. Good mademoiselle, I meant no insult. In fact I respect the timorous man. It is easy to puff up your chest and behave as a brute. It is what is expected of us, but to admit to cowardice, well that is not an easy trait to claim to and your Marius does it with vigour that...”

Cosette cut him off before he could continue. “You are Grantaire are you not?”

“I take it you’ve heard of me?” he offered.

Cosette gazed at him strangely before her lips quirked up into a huge smile. And if he thought her beautiful before, he now found her beyond words. Grantaire, for one of the rare occasions in his life, found himself speechless. It seemed that Cosette took no notice, but the reader should take into account that she held her head higher and her smile widened. Vanity may be a sin, but sometimes it is a harmless one that helps boost your confidence when you’re in strange circumstances.

“Let’s see you’re an art student who drinks more than should be deemed natural, with a penchant for the dramatics. You’re a warm-hearted cynic with the tendency to ramble until people stop listening, and you tend to offend without the intent to cause pain. I’ve heard about you.” She assented “And all your friends. I am Cosette.”

“Why that dreamy fellow certainly does pay attention where necessary!” Grantaire exclaimed.

“Yes he is wonderful is he not?” Cosette said hearing only the praise, as is custom with young love. She barely noticed when Grantaire stood and held his arm out for her to hold. He had to clear his throat a few times before she gasped “Oh!” and standing gracefully, took his arm.

“Now I’m going to take you inside, and be careful not to run into the arms of your darling as we enter. You’re here to meet his friends are you not?” At her nod her continued. “Well this is what we’ll do.” He said pausing outside the door. “I’ll take you to meet our leader first.  Enjolras. The fair haired beauty who runs our meetings. His face is stern but do not worry for his heart is good and true. He is, I believe, more than a man. A God sent down from the heavens to mingle with mere mortals. I fear it sometimes, it burns to look at him directly.

 Make no form of contact with anyone else. And if he responds well, then we shall make the rounds. Luckily you’re here at a winding down period, so I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t be able to stay...”

Cosette cut him across...again. “Grantaire...”

“Call me R.”

“R then. Shouldn’t we go in now?”

“Of course. You’re an intelligent one? That’s good. I do have _the tendency to ramble until people stop listening_ after all.” He repeated her words. She giggled as he opened the door to let her inside.

Everyone froze at their entrance.

Feuilly seemed to have drifted over to the larger group, leaving Combeferre and Enjolras on their own.  Her was sitting next to Bahorel and sharing his brandy while Bahorel grumbled something about _“A man should never be forced to share his liquor.”_ Courfeyrac was patting Marius on the back as he seemed to be sobbing in his arms and Joly and Bossuet were engaging Jehan in a conversation that seemed to involve a lot of gesticulation.

This scene was now frozen, outside of Marius who slowly lifted his head looking horrified. Grantaire spared them a mischievous grin before walking Cosette to the middle of the room and clearing his throat.

“This is Enjolras.” He said singling out the man who was appraising her. “Fearless leader I’d like to introduce you to Marius’s love. She really is a clever, young thing, which Marius failed to mention, and she’s been just eager to meet you. She has, after all only heard good things.”

Enjolras waved his hand to silence Grantaire as he sensed a spiel coming on. He gazed at Cosette keenly for a few moments before extending his hand. Cosette, who was confident enough walking in, suddenly looked docile; which was completely against her nature, but Enjolras had that effect on most people, held out her hand and he shook it briskly.

“I’ve been hearing about you for thirty minutes past. I thought you’d left. I wouldn’t have assumed you’d been left out there.” Enjolras turned his gaze to Marius who looked abashed.

“You see, Marius is of the craven species.” Cosette started, her voice carrying throughout the room. Courfeyrac and Bossuet started laughing outright and Bahorel looked appreciative. Marius shot her a betrayed look. “It is not an easy trait to claim to, but he does it well.” She continued, her eyes bright, as she glanced at Grantaire. He smirked at Enjolras’ raised brow.

“I see you’ve become well acquainted with Grantaire.” Combeferre looked at her arm in his curiously.

“It’s the funniest story. He sat at the table where I was sitting by my lonesome and started chatting with me as though we were old friends. He was kind enough to give me company.” Marius groaned again and Courfeyrac resumed rubbing his back. “Not that I am particularly used to company. I do quite well on my own, but it’s never something I’d deny. He brought me in here, and it was a kindness that I appreciate.”

“Ah it was nothing.” Grantaire said looking self-conscious for the first time since he met her.

“It was not _nothing_! Even the tiniest gesture can do some good R!” Marius looked taken aback by the familiar nickname, but Enjolras smiled at her (The first smile of the evening. Congratulations Cosette.) and Grantaire sighed.

“Another idealist,” He frowned at her, looking deceived.  “Ah well I will tolerate your company anyhow.  You two should come over when you’re done.” He nodded at Combeferre and Enjolras. “Come now let me introduce you to the lot.”

He escorted her to his friends who watched her with curious apprehension, all except Marius who looked as though an angel was gracing him with his presence - which was strangely reminiscent of the way Grantaire looked at Enjolras, but that my dear reader is a story for another day – and smiled as she neared.

She stood for a moment smiling back before introducing herself. “Hello. I am Cosette. It is so nice to meet you, I feel as though we’re friends already.”

Courfeyrac, who was the first person to shake out of his stupor, stood and bowed exaggeratedly. “Welcome mademoiselle.” He took her hand in his and kissed it. She beamed embarrassedly but welcomed it graciously, returning his bow with and extravagant curtsey of her own.

“I am pleased to meet you. You are Courfeyrac right?”

At Courfeyrac’s inquisitive glance Grantaire supplied. “Pontmercy here apparently gave frighteningly good descriptions of our little motley crew here.”

“Ah.” Courfeyrac smiled. “Am I to take it that you’re the cause of my being unable to sleep when the night comes?”

“I...am unsure as to what you mean.” Cosette looked to Marius who had returned to covering his face with his hand.

“Oh our Marius here has taken to dreaming of you every night, mumbling your name with a stupid smile on his face. I see your face and you look flattered but I must tell you mademoiselle, I have often considered making him sleep on the streets for a few night just so I can have some proper rest.”

Marius started muttering into his arm, something about - _this was a terrible idea_ \- and - _i’m going to hang myself_ -, but no one paid him any mind, except for Cosette who looked like she longed to go to him and stroke his hair. Bahorel, seeming to understand this, got out of his chair and offered it to her. “I thank you monsieur.” She rested her hand on his back as Feuilly and Bahorel rearranged themselves so that Feuilly was next to Cosette, and Grantaire sat on Bahorel’s other side.

“I am Prouvaire, but you milady can call me Jehan.” He grinned. Following Courfeyrac’s lead he bestowed a kiss on her hand across the table as Marius continued bemoaning the plight of terrible friends who set out to embarrass him. “You look a sight dear mademoiselle.” Jehan mused, looking at her intently. “It is almost as though you have come onto this earth as a gift to mankind. No one’s smile should be that kind. And yet there is sadness in your eyes. Oh no worries dear Cosette. It is a beautiful kind of sadness. It is almost as if you’ve survived something that would leave most men without a singular wit, and it has helped grace you. Oh divine fate! Always destined to seek refuge in the hearts of the good, and runs away from evil, it is almost as if it understands that diversity makes us who we are. For instance, where would I be were I not plighted with a romantic soul? Studying law? What a boring craft.” Courfeyrac rolled his eyes at this, while Bossuet and Bahorel nodded sagely.

“Boring it may be,” stated Combeferre who had just joined them, sitting at Grantaire’s side “You cannot deny that it is for an honourable cause. Defending people who deserve defending against the cruelty of the law? My trade, when I have completed school will be medicine and it is in certain ways a similar cause, helping people who cannot be helped otherwise.  Would you not agree?”

“Law and medicine,” Grantaire scoffed, “is a friend only to the rich. People lay dying on the street every day, fatal illnesses plague our beloved city and yet nothing is done about it because no one has a centime to pay their bill. Injustices happen everywhere, every day and nothing can be done, or will be done. Sure there are the select few who practise pro bono but how many people can they help?”

“I think,” Cosette said, cutting between their argument “That if a singular person is helped, then it can’t be for nothing. The poor and the under privileged can be aided, and if more people were to see this example then more would follow. The world would be a much better place if people understood that.”

There was a long pause after her little rant before Combeferre smiled “Thank you Cosette. I hope your influence will rub off on Grantaire.”

Joly offered Cosette some wine and she refused stating that she does not like alcohol. To which Enjolras responded, taking a seat next to Combeferre, “Perhaps that should rub off on Grantaire too.”

“We can’t all hold true to your example of purity my liege.” Grantaire smirked as a vein in Enjolras’s neck throbbed at even being remotely associated with a monarchy.

Jehan, Grantaire, Enjolras and Combeferre continued their debate, while Courfeyrac and Joly cheerfully engaged Cosette in a discussion about her favourite author who happened to be Chateaubriand. Marius and Feuilly occasionally chirped in, as did Jehan who was talking between both groups and somehow keeping his sanity. Bahorel and Bossuet were having some sort of arm wrestling competition across the table, which was somewhat awkward given their positions.

This strange little group kept these spirits up until it was time for Cosette to leave; granted, this was perhaps an hour or two after Cosette was supposed to leave. She bid her goodbyes, and it seemed as though she was reluctant to leave. Marius ushered her out the door, promising to stop by with her another time soon.

They all heaved a collective sigh as she left, all for different reasons. Bahorel was unused to women in the backroom and kept up the appearance of a proper gentleman, as best as he could and was relieved. Feuilly was disappointed that he didn’t have more time to get to know her as she seemed to be very interesting, and more than he would expect from Marius. Combeferre, for the same reason as Feuilly, just without any insult to Marius, he always expected the best from his friends, even the ones he were not actually close to. Grantaire because he genuinely liked Cosette, was completely charmed by her and wished he had more chance to talk to her.  Courfeyrac was just sad to see a pretty face go, especially one that could be used for teasing fodder. Bossuet and Joly, because now they wanted to see how they could go about introducing Musichetta to their friends. Jehan because he wanted to write a haiku about her eyes and Enjolras because an entire evening was wasted.

Each of them wondered if Cosette would actually be back, or if it was just an empty promise.

 

Marius had Cosette’s arm in his as he accompanied her home. He kept wondering how to talk about the evening they just spent, but was uncertain on how to approach it. Cosette smiled at him sensing his distress and pulled him down for a chaste peck on the cheek.

“Your friends are lovely Marius. I look forward to seeing them again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so  
> -This is the first time I've written fic in a while so I hope it's not too awkward.  
> -Since I'm now getting back in the fanfiction game I don't have a beta, so all mistakes, and I'm sure they're many, are mine.  
> -If it's not too obvious Courfeyrac and Grantaire happen to be my favourites. (Also Cosette. SHE'S NUMBER ONE!!! GO TEAM!!!)  
> _Enjolras actually loosened his reins enough to let Cosette into their sacred cafe because YOLO.  
> -I deeply and fervently apologize for using the term "YOLO" and I swear, by all the Gods, to never do it again.  
> -This is basically going to be a series of canon or modern "what if"AUs. Sometimes what could have been is almost as good as what happened right?  
> -Keats is my inspiration for this entire thing .


End file.
